


Saviour

by Ophelia Coelridge (daemonluna)



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-14
Updated: 2001-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daemonluna/pseuds/Ophelia%20Coelridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotaru doesn't believe in fairy tales.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saviour

Hotaru is reading. She is curled up in an armchair, feet tucked beneath her, and she is reading a book of fairy tales. She doesn't think she really believes in happily-ever-after. But it's a nice idea, and somehow, it makes her feel a little bit better. She doesn't think she wants a prince, particularily. Not yet. But a fairy godmother would be nice.

There are no fairy godmothers here. But that doesn't mean Hotaru is alone.

Watch it sneak up on her. Is it just her rebellious body? The breath in her lungs twists up chokingly into her throat. Her heart convulses irritably, pulling Hotaru to the floor, clutching at the knives in her chest.

It's happening again.

Both arms wrap around her knees, clutching pale forearms hard enough to cut off the feeling to her fingers.

Sometimes she wonders why she fights. But after all, it is her body. She's had plenty of time to get used to it, through day after day with nothing to do but lie there feeling drained and dead with that fuzzy numbness filling her head. Where the only sound louder than her breath is the whirr and hum of the monitors and machines. Where the wires go in her and through her trying to find what's broken inside this time.

It's not like it's a very strong body. But it's the only one she's got.

This time, she tells herself, it will be different.

This time, she will not give in.

This time...

But this time is just like ever other time.

She rocks back and forth like an autistic child, hands clapped over ears, listening to each sobbing breath catching raggedly in her throat, and the creak of her joints, palms pressed tight to her skull, and the thumping rush of her heartbeat and gasping for air and nails digging into skin the pain not enough to pull away and make it stop and rocking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and shaking shuddering violently falling apart make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, over and over and over and over inside her head make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop.

It never works.

Always, she wins, the demon pushing out of the child, swallowing her from the inside like the creature in the late-night horror movies Hotaru was never supposed to see.

They can both hear her laughter.

Silly little girl. Did you think you'd win this time? Did you think you could call this pathetic life your own?It was promised to me long ago. It. Is. Mine.

The door opens quietly. "Hotaru-chan, are you--" At the sight of his daughter convulsing on the floor, Souichi Tomoe does not rush to her side. He stops and lingers uncertainly on the threshold.

Father means warmth and love and security, says Hotaru with certainty. He will stop this.

He's a fool, scoffs Mistress Nine. We only let him live because he is a useful fool.

He will save me, says Hotaru, though her voice is not so certain now.

Help me, say Hotaru's eyes.

"Go away," says Mistress Nine's voice.

He turns and goes.

Hotaru would like to believe in happy endings. But all the evidence is against it.


End file.
